Tag: dating

I think we are officially dating.

Harry came to tea. He stayed for dinner. Then he stayed the night. It was our fourth date.

I think we have a relationship up and running. It is so nice and easy so far. No disconnects. N’est pas un problème.

He proved to be quite assertive over the course of the evening and I let him have the upper hand, within the mitigating and constraining circumstances of the upper hand actually being mine.

And now for a tune. Shut up.

Sin With Sebastian: Shut up And Sleep With Me (1995)

 

Clean as Christmas 

A rare photo of my house looking clean and tidy and it’s not even Xmas. Look at the shine on that floor.

Still to do:

  • clean the small bathroom, replace bath mat
  • wash dishes
  • clean kitchen floor (no time to repaint)
  • swish and swipe larger bathroom
  • clean the visible bits of the fridge
  • mop hall floor
  • remaining dusting as necessary
  • clean marks off walls and woodwork that I missed last night
  • hoover floors that haven’t been done yet
  • take rubbish out
  • put towels in bathrooms
  • go to supermarket and buy a Victoria sponge
  • shower, wash hair
  • nails
  • bleach teeth
  • allow plenty of time for make-up
  • try to find a dress that is flattering and doesn’t need ironing

I hope he doesn’t want to come over too early. I’d better get on.

Tea Set

I can’t believe I was foolhardy enough to invite Harry over when I was right in the middle of de-cluttering the spare room. I had already pulled all the junk out of that room and it was all over the floor in the living room and hall. It was well past the stage where I could just shove the junk back where it came from. The only way out was through. That’s why I’ve been doing housework for 24 hours now and yet I’ve only just arrived at the stage where I can vacuum the floors.

Anyway, he is coming to tea tomorrow and I am looking forward to it. My house will be as clean as it ever gets by then and we will be able to use my Portmeirion tea set, which I have been looking forward to. I do love a nice tea set. This one even has matching spoons. You can get yours here.

Portmeirion is a pottery and also a highly unusual village and resort in North Wales. I remember my grandparents taking me when I was a kid. I’d like to return. Maybe I’ll go with Harry if we keep seeing each other.

portmeirion aerialviewofvillage

(c) http://www.portmeirion-village.com

Starry Skies, Chapter 9: Slices of Pie

I had to tell Chockney that we are done with each other. I was trying my best but it could have taken years for him to break through the iron fortress that appeared around me whenever I was in proximity with him and he started talking about commitment. I was going to let him come over and do some building work at my flat but then I had a magical third date with Harry which made me want to save my free time for him, so that meant Chockney had to be dismissed. I tried to be nice about it. I let him go.

Harry. We looked at paintings, then we had lunch, then we sat on a sofa in the book shop and looked at books about paintings. I could say a lot of things about how I felt and what I thought. Let me try instead to recall what he was saying and doing.

  • We were sleepy after lunch and when I tired of looking at books, he put his arm around me so I could rest my head on his chest.
  • If I offer him my hand, he holds it and strokes it.
  • He put his hand on my waist when we were kissing. He’s not aggressive at all. He’s very delicate and he moves slowly.
  • He made some reference to Our First Date, like it was a thing, which it was. He said happily of our three dates so far (dinner, opera, paintings) that they were all really nice days. I’m glad he’s enjoying himself, I certainly am. I would look at paintings anyway but it is so nice when you have a young companion who kisses you and says intelligent things.
  • He said that I am the first person who has had anything positive to say about his work. Everyone else he has tried to date disapproves. But it is his job. It’s a lot easier sustaining or even starting a dating relationship when the other person isn’t dead set against your job. In subsequent text messages, he was quite chatty on the subject.
  • I invited him over to my place, he is coming on Sunday. He said ‘afternoon or evening?’ and I said ‘afternoon, but don’t book anything for the evening, we’ll go out and have dinner locally’. This reply made him look happy.

When I see him, it will be our fourth date. And that’s why Chockney had to go.

We went to see Wayne Thiebaud at White Cube in Piccadilly. I absolutely love WT, he is one of my favourite artists. American post-war painting of cakes, slices of pie, sweets, lollipops, ice creams, bubble gum machines. Brush strokes are thick. Shadows are heavy and long. Lollipops lie slain. Donuts are kept in isolation. Quite often, pairs of things appear but are not allowed to have any contact. It criticises mass-produced, synthetic, post-war, commercial food at the same time as participating in it. The items are both grotesque and strangely delicious looking. I think so, anyway. I would eat most of the things painted by Wayne Thiebaud. Harry didn’t agree on this point and I expect that’s why he’s thinner than I am. The White Cube exhibition is on until 2 July. If you can’t make it to the exhibition, I might point out that there are numerous lovely books about Thiebaud here and you should probably have one for your art library.

Starry Skies, Chapter 8: Ice

I was in the London Bridge area last night because I was on a second date with Chockney, who you may remember from Chapter 6.

In theory, Chockney is perfect. He is very attractive, despite his advanced years. He is sensitive and artistic, yet solvent (makes a nice change, usually if the people I date have any money it’s because they are still living off their parents). He is clever. He’s transparent and not secretive. He’s quite engaging and he’s a nice person. He’s sincere. He really likes me. He is my age. He is available for a relationship.

As you know, dear readers, I fall in love about twice a week, but as for being in a relationship, I would have to cast my mind all the way back to 2010, by which time that relationship was in a terrible state and had been for a couple of years, which is why I ended it and started this blog. The last seven years have been the happiest years of my life. I’m so glad I captured it all here.

Chockney talks about being in a relationship like it’s perfectly normal, which I don’t think it is. I don’t think it is normal. It’s common but not normal. He uses phrases like “being on my own” which make absolutely no sense to me, I have no idea at all what it means and I’m not very sympathetic to it. We’re all alone, all the time, from birth until death, and anything else is an illusion.

I can no longer remember what being in a relationship is like. The aspects I can remember aren’t very valuable to me. Honestly, I think I just hated the drudgery of parenting and being in a relationship made it slightly more bearable. But the parenting is over now, he’s grown up and gone to live in another city. There isn’t anything in my life that I don’t like except for doing my tax return and having to think about things like mortgages and pensions. In every other respect, my life is sweet and a work of art.

I don’t even know what I am doing with this guy. The last time I had real feelings for someone, it was the Person Who I Wasn’t Supposed To Be In Love With in 2015 and 2016. That was sincere love. I miss it a lot, I miss him a lot. I wish I could have that again but now I’ve found someone who basically ticks all the boxes and is offering a Real Relationship, I am horrified. I am a block of ice. I don’t mind having dinner and listening to myself make conversation, I am very engaging company. But I don’t want to be kissed and sex could not be any further from my mind. He takes for granted that I’m not seeing anyone else, because he’s not concentrating hard enough to ask the right questions. Am I ‘in a relationship’ with anyone else, definitely not, and have not been for 7 years. Are there people in my life who I am in some way involved with, yes, obviously, there always those people. All the time. Even if we don’t count Harry, there are two people in France who are excitedly waiting for me to come out there and join them in August. I’m spending a week in the south of France with the rich American lawyer and then I’m going straight from him to a games designer who I’ve known for a number of years who lives in the part of France that borders Switzerland. None of these things could correctly be described as ‘being in a relationship’ but they are very much real people and they are alive. They are what I have instead of a partner.

Chockney assumes that if we begin A Relationship (in fact, I think he thinks it has already begun), it will be monogamous. Again, because he thinks monogamy is normal and not merely common, he doesn’t ask me. He just assumes that monogamy is what people do, probably because he is old. If he asked me, he would discover that I haven’t been in a monogamous relationship since I was 16. That was the 1980s. That’s how long ago it was. If I tried something once in the 1980s and haven’t done it again since, that’s a reliable sign that I don’t want it and I am not interested.

I am a block of ice. I am a nuclear winter in a pretty frock and meticulous make-up. Don’t even try to hold my hand, I have never liked holding hands, I find it embarrassing, it makes me feel like I’m five. You can walk along next to me and that’s all you’re getting.

Why am I even seeing him, you may ask? Good question. I can identify two reasons.

(1) I have certain household repairs that need doing that are beyond the abilities of the 24-year-olds that I usually date. I could pay someone, but I don’t want to.

(2) More seriously, everything was changed by The Person Who I Wasn’t Supposed To Be In Love With, who haunted my life like a beautiful, insubstantial ghost in 2015 and 2016. I loved the Person with all my heart. I was swept away. I would have spent the rest of my life trying to make him happy. I haven’t seen him in six months and I still miss him so much. It makes me teary if I think about how much I loved him and how we used to romantically gaze at each other. I miss that. I would love to have that again. But apparently I can only love ghosts. I can’t deal with it in real life. Real-life chances of love, like this one, turn me into stone. I am the Ice Queen. I will break his heart.

He needs to go. Right after he’s mended a few things around my house.

Let’s have a tune. Church.

M.O.P. – Cold As Ice

Starry Skies, Chapter 7: Paint

Not the kind that artists use to make paintings. The kind you put on your face.

OK, first things first. Harry has finished his exams and we had our long-awaited second date. We went to the opera together, in fact we went to see the Charles Court Opera company perform The Magic Flute because I wanted to see it again and I thought he should see it as well. I was so happy that his exams are over and we can finally date like normal people.

I am a little bit self-conscious about my appearance right now because I am getting older and mostly because I weigh a massive 164 pounds due to eating too much ice cream. I am old and I am fat. Just in time for tonight’s date, I watched a YouTube beauty vlogger and realised that I have been doing my make-up all wrong, it is out of date and I use the wrong tools. There were things I hadn’t grasped about to how apply concealer correctly, also modern trends require less eyeliner but more eyebrow. I followed this girl’s tutorial as I was getting ready to go out and the result was very pretty and took 10 years off me, which I needed, due to being so fat. So if you are not 100% sure that you are doing your make-up right, or if you are just old like me, then you should watch this because she shows you the wrong way to do things and then the right way, which is so helpful. Includes contouring and highlighting.

brushes

So I went out with Harry, we both loved the opera. It was the first one he’d been to, he said it was amazing and I agreed. Then we had dinner (tuna steak, wine). Then we went to the tube station and there was kissing, he kissed me this time, slightly assertively.

Things I remember from tonight’s date:

  • The part where he said “You’re beautiful”, and placed his hand on my bare arm to reassure me and emphasise his point. I was grateful, you don’t take beauty or compliments for granted at my age. Also, I felt that Christen’s YouTube tutorial had paid off. Win.
  • The part where he took my hand so we could navigate the crowds in Islington (he did the same thing on our first date, as I recall). The surprise of having him take my hand and pull me through the crowd. The feel of his hand in mine, his slim bones.
  • The part where we were walking together and I put my arm around his narrow waist, the shape of him, slender and firm.
  • The part where we were sitting together at dinner, he was explaining complicated maths to me and his hands were trembling with barely-suppressed excitement or anxiety, not sure which.
  • The part where he didn’t try to have sex with me. The part where we agreed to meet for a third date next week, with no suggestion on either side that it needs to involve sex. Not yet. I think we are getting to know each other.

I have a little thing for him, you can tell. I wasn’t going to follow up with Chockney because I feel safer with Harry and I’m a little afraid of Chockney’s talk about relationships and commitment and not ‘being on your own’, whatever that is supposed to mean, probably something bad. But then I texted him anyway, mainly to make sure that he wasn’t planning to show up at the Magic Flute tonight, and that’s why we now have a date planned for this Saturday.

So that’s the state of my love life. Stay tuned for more dating news, which I bring to you as it happens.

Starry Skies, Chapter 6: Chockney

I returned from Paris feeling satiated. All my romantic and physical needs had been taken care of by Alain. Maxime had been dismissed and Fyodor was far away in Russia because that’s where he lives. This left only Harry, based in London, who I was looking forward to dating as soon as he’d finished some crucial maths exams. I had no need for anything else in the meantime and I wanted to get back to work. Then people started reminding me that I promised I would come out and meet them, arrangements that I made several weeks ago when I was in another mood. I managed to deter a couple of people at least temporarily but felt I should fulfil a date for Monday evening, in fact, last night, because it had taken a while to set up. Gah. I just wanted to stay indoors and play video games or do something useful, but no, I had to put on a dress and go out.

As if my love life needed further complications, just when I’d straightened everything out, the guy turned out be really nice. So inconvenient. He is a Cockney, with a proper Cockney accent, and he is an artist, in fact, a painter, so we are calling him David Chockney, ha ha, I slay myself. He used to be a builder and then he found out he could paint and people noticed and now he’s famous. That’s the short story.

He’s my age. He’s 51. I know absolutely nothing about this age group. All my dating experience is with people in their 20s; they look attractive and they are fun and spontaneous. No-one is looking for a committed relationship and despite my romantic banter with Maxime, I’m not even sure I still know what one involves. Chockney is fit and very good looking for his age, I bet he was stunning at 25. He’s surprisingly self-effacing and softly-spoken. I would be really full of myself if I were a well-known artist. He was interesting, he knows a lot about art, even though he says he knows nothing, and he likes me. He said that he would prefer to be in a relationship. He said ‘I’ve been on my own for a long time, too long really’. These are terms that I don’t fully understand any more. I don’t know what ‘on my own’ means or how that’s different from just being alive and going about your normal, everyday business. I asked him why he wanted to be in a relationship. He said ‘Honestly, it will be better for developing my painting’ and I thought that was a good answer, if there is one. Better than some shit about being afraid to be old and alone.

Anyway. I tried to put him off as much as possible by smoking while on the date, saying ‘fuck’ and talking about my extensive experience of dating models who are half my age but he was undeterred and it seems like we’re on for a second date.

I finally get to see Harry (24) on Thursday. We’ve waited so long and so much has happened since we first met. We are going to the opera on Thursday and then we’ll see what happens. And that, readers, is the point where you are finally all caught up with Starry Skies. What an epically romantic time it has been. From this point, you know as much as I do. We will all have to wait and see what happens in upcoming episodes as Harry and Chockney become love rivals.